


Hot to Frot

by LadyDrace



Series: Junk Ficlets from Tumblr [137]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clothed Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Frottage, Happy Ending, M/M, POV Stiles, Scent Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 20:40:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13621272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: Derek is very hot for Stiles' bod, and no one is complaining.





	Hot to Frot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GobsmackApplejack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GobsmackApplejack/gifts).



> Originally [posted on Tumblr](http://ladydrace.tumblr.com/post/159308490041/hot-to-frot) as a present for the awesome Gobsmackapplejack. <3
> 
> Unbetaed.

”Okay... fuck, okay... could you just... fuck,” Stiles pants stupidly as he tries to squirm a hand into his jeans to adjust himself. It's not an easy task, because Derek doesn't seem to want to move away at all, too busy grinding his own significant boner against Stiles'. But by some stroke (heh) of luck, _Derek's_ dick didn't end up chafing uncomfortably against _his_ fly, and he's spectacularly uncaring of Stiles' problem.

 

”You need to... move, fuck,” Stiles hisses, because Derek gets it completely backwards and ruts harder against Stiles' pained dick. ”Ow, dude, stop for a sec.” Those are the magic words, and Derek finally pauses long enough for Stiles to accomplish his goal. ”Shit, yes, there we go,” he sighs, and immediately hauls Derek in again, because it's not like he wants to _stop_ stop. Just... not chafe his cock head to hell, please.

 

Apart from that small misunderstanding Derek is beautifully cooperative, moving every which way Stiles nudges him, as long as it's not _away_. Derek presses in so close that Stiles feels his spine flatten against the wall, and he definitely knocks something down with an elbow at some point. But he doesn't care, because Derek is grinding up against him _so damn good_ , and making all these hot noises in his ear.

 

Derek's voice tends to drop like a full octave when he's horny, and it does all kinds of good things to Stiles to hear all that grunting and moaning just because Stiles is _there_. He doesn't even really have to _do_ anything. Just having him around seems to race Derek's motor, and it's doing wonders for Stiles' self-esteem, frankly.

 

”Yes, yes, fuck, yes,” Stiles gasps, arms clinging around Derek's neck to avoid falling down, because his knees are no good. Not that it matters much, because his feet leave the ground every few seconds anyway, as Derek mashes in between his legs, frotting their cocks together just right, all hot and firm.

 

Derek makes another one of those hot noises, and licks without much coordination around Stiles' jaw, clearly too distracted to pay much attention to what he's doing. It's fine, Stiles can relate. Everything is so hot and amazing, and it might even be more amazing if they could get undressed, but Stiles frankly doesn't have the brainpower. So, fully clothed it is.

 

Stiles' jeans actually make a creaking noise from the force of the friction, and his breath stutters in his throat, because _damn_.

 

“Derek, _fuck_ ,” he whimpers, and fumbles around until he can find Derek's mouth for a wet and desperate kiss. “Fuck yeah, so good, don't stop.”

 

Derek actually growls, and okay, that really does it for Stiles. “Fu- _uck_ ,” Stiles croaks, and tries his best to thrust back, though he can barely find any traction. But Derek doesn't seem to mind, growling more and digging his fingers into Stiles' ass, pulling him in tighter.

 

“Jesus, _yes_.” Stiles whimpers, and he hides his embarrassed blush against Derek's throat. Not that there's really any point in trying to deny any of his reactions to Derek's amazing sex skills. Derek's seen and heard them all by now. But Stiles has a lot to unlearn, still. Maybe somewhere on the other side of thirty he'll be more comfortable about losing every shred of dignity in the face of horny werewolf determination, but as it is he's still an insecure nineteen year old, and it just doesn't feel very cool to be whimpering like a puppy every time Derek touches his dick just right.

 

Speaking of which, Derek is really getting into it, rutting faster and harder, and grunting with frustration before hoisting Stiles' legs up with both hands to get them _closer_. Maybe one day Stiles will get tired of being manhandled, but that day sure isn't today, and he moans loud and sharp right into Derek's ear as the friction gets absolutely perfect. The seam of his zipper that was torturing him before is now rubbing that exact spot under the head of his cock that always gets him off, and Derek has moved from licking and nibbling to outright gnawing, working what feels like a mother of a bruise into Stiles' neck.

 

“De- _rek_!” Stiles stutters, and his breath hiccups out in small bursts, matching every thrust of Derek's hips as the pleasure builds and builds and then finally crests after what feels like an eternity.

 

Stiles groans against Derek's jaw, open mouthed and hot, and digs his fingers into Derek's jacket as he comes hard, shaking and panting in Derek's hold. Less than a minute later Derek follows suit, mashing him up against the wall hard enough to squeeze the breath out of his lungs, and there's definitely a sting of teeth on the already throbbing bruise. It makes Stiles' spent cock twitch, and he has the passing orgasm-stupid thought that maybe he should look into BDSM if he likes pain so much.

 

But he's pretty sure it's not actually pain he likes as much as just Derek. Or maybe the feeling of being so fucking desired that an alpha werewolf can't bear to leave him unmarked and risking anyone thinking he's available. Not that any wolf with a nose would ever think that, since Derek barely lets a day go by without rubbing himself all over Stiles. Something Scott is the only one complaining about, ever.

 

“Mmmmmm,” Derek rumbles, letting Stiles drop slowly down to stand on both feet again, and being a totally good guy too by holding Stiles up until his knees become actual knees again. “You smell so good.”

 

“I bet I do _now_ ,” Stiles says with a snort, giving Derek a tiny affectionate bite on his jaw. It's a gesture he's realized does it for Derek in a big emotional way, but he's never ever telling Derek he got the idea from animal planet.

 

“Smelled good before too.”

 

Stiles moves away enough to raise an eyebrow at him. “I haven't showered in like two days.”

 

“I know,” Derek purrs, and Stiles rolls his eyes fondly.

 

“Kinky.”

 

“You love it.”

 

Stiles sighs long-suffering, and peels himself off Derek's hot body with some reluctance, because thanks to the sticky mess in his pants he _really_ needs a shower now. “Yeah, yeah, glass houses, I know,” he mutters. Derek has seen Stiles' porn folder, there's really no argument to be made here. “Wanna join me in the shower?” he asks instead, eyebrows wiggling. Derek actually pretends to ponder the question, because he's an asshole, but Stiles already knows the answer.

 

“Yeah, okay,” he says, to no one's surprise, already eyeing the purpling mark on Stiles' neck. Stiles knows from experience he's looking forward to studying it under the brighter lights of the bathroom, because he apparently really likes to see every tiny detail of his mauling. One day Stiles is just gonna go ahead and have _Property of Derek Hale_ tattooed on his collarbone. Or his ass.

 

“Last one there is a rotten egg,” Stiles says and darts off, knowing full well he'll lose. But who cares, this rotten egg has a hot werewolf boyfriend who couldn't wait five minutes after coming through the door before needing to thoroughly ravage him.

 

Yeah, definitely getting that tattoo. Maybe for their anniversary.

 

End.

 

 

 


End file.
